It All Started With a Dragon
by schreibfeather
Summary: For as long as he can remember Draco has despised Haley Potter. But when he's finally about to be rid of her completely, he realizes that a dead Haley Potter isn't exactly what he wants either. But what does he want exactly? And what will the realization cost him? For everyone who might have wondered about Draco's side of the story.
1. What's in a Name

_A/N: This is kind of a prequel to Songs of Yesterday/Dreams of Today. But it also makes sense if you haven't read either of those._

* * *

**1 – What's in a Name**

On the morning of the First Task Draco woke up with the feeling of dread, settling deep in his stomach. But why? Today was The Day. Today was finally the day where everyone would see what a fraud Potter was. That there was nothing more to her but a pretty name. No, strike that. Her name wasn't even pretty. It was all about the story behind it. The Girl Who Lived.

A-MA-ZING.

After lunch was finally over, there was nothing he wanted to do more than settle in the audience next to his fellow Slytherins and enjoy The Girl Who Lived making a fool of herself. It would serve her right. He was already trying to come up with a funny name for afterwards. Something like "The Girl Who Lived No More"? That was a good one! But there it was again. The same sinking feeling from this morning. What did it mean?

"It's starting!" Pansy giddily exclaimed from his left. He turned just in time to spot the blue grey dragon that entered the arena. A dragon? Were they serious? Were they actually trying to murder all the champions?

"Shit! That's a real life dragon!" Pansy grabbed his arm in excitement. "Guess, we'll finally be rid of Potter by the end of this!" The girl cackled in amusement, grinning widely.

"As if Dumbledore would let his favourite Gryffindor die," Draco said with a scoff. "Such a pity, though." He sighed deeply, the words sounding strangely hollow in his ears.

"Wouldn't be the first time a student dies in the Tournament," Zabini chimed in from a row behind them.

"Let's keep our fingers crossed then," Pansy hissed gleefully.

"Shut up banshee, your screechy voice is ruining the show," Bulstrode said, throwing crackers at the girl's head.

"How dare you? Just because you have a crush on Diggory-"

"We can't all carry a torch for _Malfoy_."

"I swear if you don't-"

The bickering of the two girls was interrupted by a shared gasp that went through the audience. At once their attention was drawn toward the scene in front of them. The dragon was looming above Diggory who had a huge red gash all across his back. He was aiming his wand at a rock and after a flash of orange light, it turned into a huge dog. Instead of the boy, the dragon's focus had shifted to the dog now. The Hufflepuff made use of the draagon's momentary distraction and ran over toward the nest. Before he reached it, though the magical creature seemed to lose interest in the dog and sent a red, hot fireball after the boy. Although his shirt was halfway burned off, he continued sprinting to the nest and snatched up the golden egg that was sitting amidst the other normal ones. And just like this, everything was over.

"That was actually quite smart," Zabini commented, as everyone around them started to cheer.

"Come on, a first year could have come up with such a baby trick," Pansy muttered, still seemingly disgruntled.

Diggory and the dragon left the arena in two opposite directions and the jury gave him his score, which Draco forgot right away. The next dragon – a green one this time – entered, along with the Beauxbatons champion who looked as if she was about to be sick.

"Her pretty face won't help her much now," Pansy taunted.

"Unless the dragon is male," Zabini whispered, eyes glued to the French girl. Pansy rolled her eyes. But she kept silent, instead focusing on the dragon and the girl. Her strategy seemed to be to hide behind rocks and send spells at the magical creature. But none of them did any real damage. Then she fired a spell at him that put the dragon into some kind of trance. While the creature started snoring, the witch carefully tip-toed over to the dragon's nest. She had almost reached it, when a loud snore caused the dragon to send a fireball at her, setting her skirt aflame! If she hadn't ducked in time she would have been hit full on. Draco saw the headmistress of Beauxbatons get up from her seat and angrily argue with Crouch who was trying to hold her back. It seemed like the champions really were on their own.

A second later the crowd began to applaud again. The witch's robes were wet but she triumphantly held the golden egg up into the air. Pansy was sulking next to him, clearly not impressed by the champion's success. Now, there were only Krum and Potter left. The former strode into the arena confidently, a chorus of 'Krum!'–calls echoed loudly throughout the Slytherin and Durmstrang crowd. It seemed like a storm building up around him, swallowing him up, and suddenly he was calling along with the others, becoming a part of the loud mass. It gave him an excuse to lose himself in the crowd and forget about that strange sinking feeling that had been with him all day.

This time around, it was over fairly quickly. Krum hurled a spell at the creature, hitting one of its eyes and caused it to cry out in a way that Draco was sure was not exactly usual for dragons. The champion picked up his egg, received his score and that was that.

Then it was finally Potter's turn.

"How long do you think it'll take for Potter to become a heap of ash?" Pansy asked, leaning in close to him. Draco didn't really listen to her. His attention was fixed on the monstrous beast they had picked out for Potter. It had to be nearly double the size of all the previous dragons. There were sharp spikes running along its back and tail.

"Phew. An Hungarian Horntail," Zabini commented. "I see why they are called 'Quick and Painless' now."

Draco chalked the heavy feeling that settled in his stomach down to anticipation. Soon, that annoying Gryffindor would be gone from his life once and for all.

"Quiet now, we want to enjoy this," Pansy hissed. "Right, Draco?" She looked at him, bulgy eyes full of excitement.

"Of course," he agreed with a superior smirk. "So much for The Girl Who Lived." He snorted. Huh. He could come up with a better remark, couldn't he?

All through the audience people started pointing at something that was flashing toward them. A broomstick. Potter's damned Firebolt! It raced to the girl's side and stopped in mid-air, where she mounted it. Flying. That was actually a really good plan. Had she come up with that on the spot? Or had she somehow known in advance that she was going to fight a dragon?

"Well, you can't deny, she's a born flyer," said Zabini.

"What? Are you on Potter's side now?" Pansy asked.

"I'm merely appreciating the aesthetic value," he replied smugly. "Oh _shit_."

_Oh shit_ indeed. Potter had flown close to the dragon, hovering above it to lure it away from its nest. But the creature didn't move an inch. Instead its tail swooshed up, missing her only by a fraction. The attack was followed up by a ball of fire that would have scorched the girl, had she not hurled herself off the broom, hanging on the wooden stick only by her fingers.

"She lost her wand! Did you see?" Pansy exclaimed, giddily clapping her hands. "She's done for now."

The girl was right. It wasn't looking good at all for the Gryffindor. She was just hanging there, helplessly. Her face was a mess of scratches and cuts, features scrunched up in desperate concentration and pain…

And then the horned tail came for her again, aiming for her head. Potter let go of the broomstick with one of her hands and swung to the side to dodge the hit. But it wasn't enough. The dragon's tail crashed against the hand that was still clutching the wood, causing her to let go and sending her flying into the air. Draco didn't know what was louder. The girl's panicked scream or the pounding of his own heart that was almost drowning out everything else. As he watched the wide-eyed girl spiral through the air, he felt as though a freezing spell had hit him, coating his insides with ice that was spreading all over his body. A thought entered his mind. _Maybe she won't survive it. What if she doesn't survive it?_ A weight was pressing down on his throat, making it hard to breathe.

What was wrong with him? Had someone cursed him? He looked around the people surrounding him but everyone's gazes were fixed on the scene enfolding in front of them. Potter was on her broom again. Huh? How had that happened? She was holding onto the broomstick with only one hand. The other one was smeared with blood and carefully cradled against her chest.

"Ugh, does this have to be so barbaric?" A girl piped up. Greengrass if he had heard right. Strangely, Draco found himself silently agreeing with her.

Potter seemed to have changed her strategy now. She was flying around in circles above the Horntail but never close enough for its tail to reach her. The dragon in turn, resolved to spewing fireballs at her, which she dodged each time. He couldn't look away. Even if he tried. And then the strangest thing happened. Every time Potter was nearly hit by a fireball, she became less…

Less annoying. Less infuriating. Less irritating. Less gryffindory. Less arrogant. Less pretentious. Less self-righteous.

Less… Potter. It was like with a word that you said again and again until it finally lost its meaning.

Potter. Potter. Potter.

Potter.

Potter.

Potter.

What did it mean? A name. But what did it mean to him?

He didn't know.

And suddenly she wasn't Potter any more. She was a girl. Not even The Girl Who Lived. But a girl. Who was fighting against a dragon that wanted to kill her. _He_ had wanted the dragon to kill her. Why? Because he found her annoying? Because she had refused to be his friend in first year?

And then? If the dragon really killed her… what then?

It seemed like the Horntail was getting tired of the game. It spread its huge leathery wings and launched into the air. After her. The girl reacted at once, spiralling higher into the air. Then she suddenly swooped down, right as the dragon opened its snout and spat another fireball at her.

She wasn't fast enough. The fire clung to her back, momentarily turning her into a human torch. Draco swore his heart stopped for a moment. All the while, the girl was speeding toward the ground, snatched up the now unguarded golden egg and crashed to the ground, rolling across the earth, which at least put out the fire on her robes.

It was silent for only a split second. Then the audience erupted in cheers and started to call the girl's name like crazy.

"What a joke," Pansy grumbled somewhere below him. Below him? Oh. He was standing. When had he got to his feet? Suddenly, he felt feverish. And foolish. He sank to the bench again. What was _wrong_ with him?

"Dray? Draco. Draco!" Pansy was shaking his arm and calling his name. He glanced around. Most of the people had left by now.

"I know how disappointed you must be. Let's just leave," Pansy purred. "You know, there's still two tasks left." Her grin made a shudder run down his neck. Two tasks left. Two more chances for a champion to die. He didn't let the thought linger. Instead he got up and followed the dark-haired girl down the bleachers.

"I've come up with a good name for her, though. Do you wanna hear it?" She asked, hopping excitedly down the steps.

He raised an eyebrow. Which she took as a sign to continue.

"The Torch Who Lived." She giggled madly, reminding Draco of a crazy four-year-old. He lifted the other eyebrow as well. The image of the girl lit up with flames was still in his mind, freshly burned into his memory.

He snorted. It was slightly funny. If you found horror stories funny.

…

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A/N: Who's ready for the story of how Draco started to fall for Haley? This is it! I mean there's more. Maybe 4 chapters or so. I thought that since you can basically witness every moment of Haley developing her feelings Draco deserved something similar to that. Especially, since he's already half in love at the start of the series.  
And this is obviously situated before Dreams of Today or Songs of Yesterday. Like a prequel. (I didn't post this in Knight in a Shining Helmet because it's multichaptered and takes place before anything else so it would have been confusing, I think.) Anyway, stay tuned :)


	2. Everything I Wanted

**2 - Everything I Wanted**

Horntails weren't the most forgiving creatures. The same dragon from this afternoon had snuck into the Gryffindor dorm and was making a mess of pillows and bed sheets. It was looking for Potter. She had to be somewhere in here. There was only one bed left standing. Was it hers? The dragon's spiked tail swung toward the bed, knocking it over and ripping apart the curtains.

A panicked scream. It sounded like a girl… Was it Potter? The tip of a wand lit up and her face became visible. She seemed to have trouble getting up. Well, it seemed like this was finally the end of her. It was her own fault for always being this self-righteous and annoying.

"Help! Please someone help me!" She yelled. Help her? Why would anyone help her? She had brought this on herself. It was the dragon who should be cheered on.

"Help!" Her voice was filled with panic. She was waving about her wand desperately as the dragon opened its jaws and released an earsplitting roar. For some reason her wand didn't seem to work. Then her eyes suddenly found his. Pleading. Panicked. Scared. _Help_, she mouthed.

But then everything shifted. He was taller and much closer to the remains of the bed. And the dragon… was gone. He looked around the room. Where was it? He spotted its tail behind him and… why were there claws where his hands had been before?

He was the dragon.

And he was still stalking closer to the girl. No. What was going on? Why? Why couldn't he stop walking? Why?

He glanced at the girl that was much tinier than him now, feeling almost as panicked as she had moments before.

But she didn't look panicked any more now. Far from it. There was determination in her eyes. And defiance. "Isn't that what you wanted?" She asked calmly, while he felt his mouth open and his insides start to burn. _No_, he thought, when the fire filled up his throat. _No!_

But then a wave of flames rolled out past his teeth and there was fire all around. _No!_ He didn't want that! He didn't want to kill anyone. He didn't want her to die like this. He didn't want her to _die_. Where was she? There were only flames dancing around him. Mocking him. _I__sn't that what you wanted?_

And then the fire died down. Abruptly. As if it had never been there. And Potter was gone as well. As if she had never been there.

…

"No!" Draco woke up, completely tangled up in his sheets and breathing heavily. Where was the fire? Where was the dragon? Where was–? Potter. Where was she?

"I'm not a dragon," he whispered to himself, touching his scaleless fingers and making sure he didn't have a tail. Right. It had been a dream. Just a stupid dream. The stupid Gryffindor was probably lying inside her bed and dreaming of her sweet victory. He should just lie back down, close his eyes and try to dream of something less nerve-racking. So, he did just that, pulling up his sheets and pressing his eyes closed.

_Isn't that what you wanted?_ The girl had been waiting just behind his eyelids. He sat up again, eyes wide open. He didn't want to see her go up in flames once more. One could only take so much horror. With a sigh, Draco let his head sink back against the headboard. And suddenly he wondered… what if it _wasn't_ a dream? What if the dragon really had come back for her? To finish her off? What if… it had been _him_? But that was stupid, right? He wasn't a blasted dragon! But then… why had it felt so real? So frighteningly real?

He slipped out of bed, cursing that damned dream. It wasn't like he was going to be able to get any more sleep tonight anyway.

…

On the way to the seventh floor, Draco almost got caught by a teacher three times. Well four times if you counted his encounter with Filch, who'd been doing who-knew-what in the girls' bathroom on the third floor. It was the middle of the night! Why weren't those teachers asleep like normal people? _Why aren't __**you**__ asleep?_, asked a voice in his head. It sounded mocking. He shook it off. He had a completely legitimate reason for being out of bed. He wasn't keen on a visit to Azkaban. And it would be a long visit, if he'd really killed someone. So, of course he had to make sure that wasn't the case. And if it was the case he had to get rid of the body. But that was a different story. And completely unlikely. Right?

He'd reached the seventh floor now. There was the portrait of that Fat Lady that kept non-Gryffindors from getting inside their common room. Non-Gryffindors like him. Well, shit. He hadn't thought that far. Maybe he could talk the lady into letting him in? He cleared his throat, in order to catch her attention. She appeared to be sleeping. Wasn't she supposed to keep watch? He cleared his throat once more. Nothing happened.

"Wake up, you useless portrait!"

The lady in the portrait opened one sleepy eye and glared and him.

"Who dares to wake me in the middle of the-" She took a closer look at him (with both eyes). "You don't look familiar."

Draco snorted. "Let me in." He ordered, trusting his inherent Malfoy aura of authority.

"That's not the password." The Fat Lady rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

He groaned. Password? Well, how difficult could it be? Surely, those dumb Gryffindors couldn't remember complicated words. They probably also thought they'd be able to defend themselves if anyone suspicious marched into their common room. Fools.

"Godric Gryffindor?" He tried.

The Fat Lady snorted. "Nice try."

"Bravery? Stupidity? Vanity?"

She shook her head.

"Red? Gold? Glory? Honour?"

"No, no, no and no."

Damn. This was harder than he'd thought.

"Broomstick, quidditch, Defence Against the Dark Arts. Recklessness!"

The lady in the portrait started to chuckle. "Is that what you think of Gryffindors?"

"Why d'you think-? I just forgot the password. That's all."

She lifted an eyebrow.

"It's true! Someone hexed me, changed my appearance and did something to my memory. I'm – uh… Longbottom. Neville Longbottom." Draco cringed at his lack of originality. Well, at least he'd chosen the identity of a pureblood.

"Is that so?"

"Yes!"

"Then who was the other Neville Longbottom I saw earlier tonight?"

Shit. Why would she remember every single student she saw in a day?

"You probably confused him," he drawled dismissively.

"I don't think I did. He forgot the password as always." The lady sighed deeply. It seemed like he had chosen the worst possible name he could have.

"That was probably the person who hexed me. Sounds like a Slytherin. You have to let me in and catch him. Who knows what he's planning!" If that wasn't a clever argument he didn't know what was.

The Fat Lady sent him a long and assessing look. "To me it sounds like you're describing yourself. Could have fooled me. But… you don't even know the password. If you had been a bit more clever you would have followed your own plan and made sure you found out the password first of all."

Draco glared at her darkly. This wasn't going to work. He needed a different plan. Could he bribe her? But how? What could he use to bribe a portrait? Maybe…

"As expected, someone as clever and beautiful as you sees right through me." He made his voice sound smooth and flattering. He was good at that.

The lady seemed almost pleased. Was it working?

"I shouldn't have attempted to fool someone as insightful as you."

"You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" She chuckled, curling her finger around one of her locks. "Why don't you tell me why you're really here, and I'll see what I can do?"

The truth? She wanted to hear the truth? Would that get him anywhere? Unlikely. Unless…

"There's a fire! Inside one of the dorms. I've seen it from outside."

"A fire?"

Draco nodded.

"Why didn't you tell a teacher? What were you even doing outside at this hour?"

"I – how is this important? There's a fire! People are in danger!"

"I heard you clearly the first time."

"Then why – what are you waiting for?"

The Fat Lady gave a deep sigh. Then she walked right out of her portrait.

She was back in less than a minute, giving him a dismissive wave. "You can go now. There is no fire."

"What? No fire?"

"No."

"What about signs of a fight?"

"What are you talking about?" She frowned. "No. Nothing like that. Did you have a bad dream?"

"What?"

"A bad dream, a nightmare?"

"I..." He shook his head slowly. "No… I…"

"You should go back to your dorm, my boy. Get some sleep." The Fat Lady advised, giving him a sympathetic glance.

Damn it. There was no way she was going to let him inside now. But why did he still want to get inside? She'd told him that nothing had happened. There had been neither a fire nor a dragon attack. He'd only had a dream and been too stupid to shake off the remnants of it.

"Off with you, now." She made a shooing gesture and left him no choice but to trudge back down the hall. But instead of climbing down the stairs, he slipped into an alcove with a small bench that hid him from unwanted eyes. He could simply wait for another chance.

At some point the Gryffindors had to come out of their dorm, right? He would slip inside then unnoticed. Then, he'd finally be able to check with his own eyes. To erase that horrifying image from his memory. The image of her scared face lit up by flames.

_Isn't that what you wanted?_ _Isn't that what you wanted? Isn't that what you… _

His eyes felt so heavy all of a sudden. So heavy…

…

Laughter startled him back into consciousness.

"– brilliant! I tell you, the Triwizard Cup is already as good as ours!" A group of second or first years made their way past his alcove, sending him curious glances. Was it morning already? Had he fallen asleep? On a bench? He still remembered bits and pieces of a dream… Fire, claws, the smell of smoke, a panicked scream… a girl… a sea of flames and then… nothing. His heart was beating twice as fast, every thrum hitting his chest with the force of a hammer.

Draco jumped to his feet and raced past the confused Gryffidiots. Someone was coming out of the portrait door. It was about to close. But maybe he could still… The door closed with a definite click. He barely managed not to crash into the person who'd left the common room. Two girls. Pretty ones. Weren't they from his year? Maybe he could ask them about the fire?

"Wait – I –" He started to say, when the door opened another time. He was caught between trying his luck with the door or interrogating the girls… What to do? What would be less suspicious?

".. won't get easier. You need to be even better prepared this time." That was Granger's voice. She was stepping out of the portrait hole now. Along with the weasel and…

_Her_. She looked just the same as usual. No scratches or marks on her face. Her unruly black hair no longer muddied or streaked with blood. And her hand seemed to be okay as well.

She was _alive_.

It felt like a bubble was bursting inside him, filling him up with a strange relief that washed away all feelings of guilt or panic or fear.

"I see you're still among the living." He scoffed, trying to ignore these overwhelming feelings.

"Sorry to disappoint you." She replied mockingly.

"It _is_ disappointing." He sighed dramatically. "To think that dragon missed its chance to get rid off you. Well, one can dream, right?"

"Shut your filthy mouth, Malfoy!" The weasel piped up. What a nuisance he was.

"I don't waste my time talking to sidekicks, Weasley." He sneered derisively.

"Say that again, you bastard!" He was already turning red. It made him look even more stupid. Was he hard of hearing? He'd just said he didn't waste his time –

"Don't waste your time," the know-it-all said. "He's just bitter because Haley won and he'd never be brave enough to fight a dragon."

"You're wrong." He sneered at her. "I'd never be _foolish_ enough."

Potter had the audacity to roll her eyes. "Come on guys. I'm starving. We should at least give him the chance to change before starting a fight, shouldn't we?"

Change? What-? Draco glanced down at himself only to notice that he was still wearing his silk pyjamas beneath his morning robes. How embarrassing. He felt heat rush into his cheeks when the Gryffindors started laughing.

"Well, those dreadful robes _you're_ wearing are the last thing I'd want to be caught in." He hissed haughtily, cursing himself for not coming up with something better. He should just go, before he could make even more of a fool off himself. He'd done everything he'd come here for. He hadn't turned into a dragon during the night or killed anyone. There was no body he had to get rid off. Which was a relief. He could go now. There was no reason for him to stand there like a fool or uselessly follow the Gryffindors with his eyes. He could still hear them laughing from down the hall. How humiliating. How dare they laugh at him? Him, Draco Malfoy! He should teach them a lesson. He should – where were Crabbe and Goyle when he needed them?

"You're still here?" That was the voice of the Fat Lady. Damn. If he stayed any longer, she might start to tell people that he'd spent the _night_ here. And he wasn't going to let it come to that. He'd been humiliated enough for a whole week. A good shower was what he needed now. To wash away the stench of those Gryffindor fools and the aftertaste of fire and smoke still lingering on his tongue.

…

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A/N: Ah... poor Draco. So... guess what inspired the title of this chapter? Right! It's "Everything I wanted" by Billie Eilish. When I wrote this I listened to "Everything I wanted" and "ilomilo" non-stop. It made me a little dizzy. ilomilo especially. But... her music is great. I'm a fan. What is your favourite Billie Eilish song? Mine's probably Bellyache. But it depends on my mood.  
Leave me your thoughts! :)


	3. Those Ocean Eyes

**3 - Those Ocean Eyes**

The rest of the day continued as dreadfully as the morning had promised. In every class they shared with the unbearable Gryffindors those idiots talked about nothing but the First Task and wanted to know exactly what it had been like to fight that dragon.

Draco was so sick of it. He'd had enough of dragons for the rest of his life! They only reminded him of the terror he'd felt during the task. And his dream… had even been worse. He could still see the panic and the fear written all over her face when he closed his eyes for too long. He heard her _scream._ It drove him insane! Why was he feeling like this?

The only thing that helped was to look at her. The real her. Not the twisted horror vision. Looking at her familiar features helped calming his heart. Her unharmed skin helped convincing him that he was not dreaming. The way she was mindlessly chewing on the end of her quill reminded him that they were in a class room. It was unlikely that a dragon was going to come inside and attack them in broad daylight. The way she was messing up her potion for the hundredth time made him remember how much of a fool she was. Annoying useless Gryffindor that a dragon would surely never waste its time with. It was surprisingly funny how she always managed to completely ruin the easiest potion. Why had he only noticed that now? Potter's stupidity was pure entertainment gold.

He chuckled softly.

"Draco, look!"

"What is it, Pansy," he drawled with a slow grin.

"Your potion looks really weird!"

He rolled his eyes. "What are you-" She was right. His potion was supposed to be a bright yellow but instead it had a soft pink tinge. Small bubbles were rising up from it. They smelled like bubble gum. Right. That was the reason why he never watched Potter mess up her potions. It caused him to mess up his _own_. He sat up straight again and tried to fix what could be fixed.

…

In Magical Creatures it was much easier to look at her. That class was for the dogs anyway. Nothing they did required much concentration. Watching her make a fool of herself running after those ridiculous blast-ended skrewts was even more entertaining than Potter's failure in potions. The image really helped chasing away the flashes of fire and fear he had almost forgotten by now.

"Those Gryffindors have to be the most idiotic species in the world," Pansy complained, watching them distastefully.

Draco nodded. Potter looked absolutely frustrated. There was mud smeared all across her face and robes. Why did she and her friends take this so seriously?

He scoffed. "Absolutely daft."

"Watch out!" Potter called, racing past other students and dodging hedges in order to catch the blasted creature.

"Draco!" Pansy pulled at his arm because Potter was headed right toward them. He avoided the skrewt but… Potter slammed right into him, literally knocking him off his feet.

"Slytherin's snake, don't you have eyes?"

"I said watch out! Don't you have ears?" She was smearing mud all over him. He shoved her off him. Now, she'd gone and ruined his robes. They were his favourite!

"You insufferable little-" He started to say but the girl was already off again. Heading after the stupid creature as if the incident hadn't bothered her at all.

Well, she probably didn't care much for her robes, seeing as she had dirtied them up all on her own. Voluntarily. She obviously didn't care about _his_ robes. She'd simply tackled him like some brute, almost giving him a heart attack. His poor heart was still beating urgently as if it was trying to leap out of his chest. She'd probably done it on purpose. An attempt at his life. In broad daylight. The level of recklessness was offending.

"Are you okay, Draco?" Pansy asked worriedly, kneeling down beside him. He got up and straightened his robes, fixing the raven-haired girl with a glare. Did she somehow know about his dream? Was she trying to kill him before he could kill her? No. That was insane. He was going insane. He'd probably had too little sleep.

"Quite splendid, Pansy." He replied, blinking his eyes to get them to focus again. "What do you say, we skip the rest of the lesson or whatever it's supposed to be and head back for an early supper?" It wasn't a question, really. Pansy usually complied to his wishes. And that oaf of a wanna-be teacher wasn't going to notice anyway.

…

Another night. Another dream. Another episode of the Potter-show. This time, she was on the school grounds close to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. In front of her, in a half-circle there was a group of people, talking to her and edging her closer toward the forest, where all kinds of clawed creatures and dark shadows were lurking. He recognized a few of the people surrounding her. He was standing next to them. As if he was a part of them. There was Barty Crouch, Professor Snape, Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Bagman… and a couple of others whose faces he couldn't see.

The girl looked uncomfortable. But the people around her didn't seem to notice. They pointed at her with their wands, whispered encouraging words and slowly nudged her toward the trees. He did, too. Although she didn't have a wand. Although, she was on her own and clearly wanted to be anywhere but there. She didn't look as confident now. He'd always known she was nothing but a fraud. A joke. A name. A glorified story. Nothing special. He nudged her again, making her trip over a branch and fall.

He knelt down next to her and loomed over her body, pointing his wand at her face.

Then he noticed that his other hand, the one resting next to her face on the ground wasn't a hand at all. It had turned into a nightmare. There were slimy, green scales on his skin and his nails had turned into long, sharp claws. One of his claws pressed against her neck, a drop of blood running down in slow-motion… Draco's eyes widened. He pulled his hand away and held it in front of his eyes as if the claws were going to disappear with only a glance.

Then he felt fingers curl around his normal clawless wrist, pulling it down until he was pointing his wand at her chest. No. At her heart. His eyes flew toward the girl's face, that was full of determination and anger. "Isn't that what you wanted?" She asked him again.

Those eyes. The intensity in them was unsettling. They seemed unshakeable.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" She repeated in a whisper that sounded more curious than anything. Was she asking him if he wanted to kill her?

Instead of answering, he dropped his wand. It was an answer all the same. His left hand became normal again. And the girl smirked up at him almost mockingly.

"What do you want then?" She asked, gazing straight at him, catching him in her incredibly green eyes. He shook his head. What did she want him to say?

"What… do… you… want?" This time, she formed the words soundlessly with only her lips, making him watch them closely, so he didn't miss a word.

When he didn't answer this time, she only grinned in an amused way. As if she knew something he didn't.

Luckily, his alarm charm woke him in exactly that moment. With a beating heart. (What was wrong with that thing?)

"Turn off that blasted alarm charm! It's Saturday!" Zabini complained from one of the other beds. Saturday? Why had he set his alarm charm on Saturday?

Draco turned it off and pulled up his blankets again. Thankfully, he didn't dream anything this time.

…

* * *

A/N: This one's super short. But the next one will be a tad longer :) BTW, the next one will also be the final part, just so you know. Who can guess where I found inspiration for the chapter title? :)


	4. No One Can Hurt You

**4 - No One Can Hurt You**

Nothing. That was the answer. He didn't want a thing from her. Maybe to be left alone. But that was all. He didn't want her to keep attracting his attention. Or to appear in his dreams. Including daydreams. He certainly could do without her constant presence wherever he looked. Or everyone talking about her and reminding him of her once more. He had also never asked her to put these thoughts inside his head. Or to make him question his overall behaviour. It wasn't his fault that she'd landed herself in that stupid tournament and almost got killed by a dragon! She'd entered her name herself, hadn't she? How was that _his_ fault? Why did he have to be tortured every other night by some dream, blaming _him_ for every single bad thing that happened to her? (Why did it even bother him? Wasn't that what he'd wanted? Wasn't it…?)

"Ew." Why did his tea taste this awful? Did the whole world hate him? "They call that tea?"

"Don't you usually take your tea with sugar?" Pansy asked. What a stupid question. Of course he took his tea with – oh. That was why it had tasted so bitter.

"This place really has gone to the dogs," he muttered irritably, heaping mountains of sugar into his cup. "I might ask father to send me to Durmstrang next year." In truth, he didn't really want to go to Durmstrang. It was much too cold there. On the other hand, the thought of escaping Potter was… tempting.

There was a group of giggling girls coming toward their table. It wasn't unusual, really. With Viktor Krum sitting here and everything.

"I wish those girls would seek _me_ out like that," Zabini said with a sigh. "I'm at least as handsome as him."

Draco snorted. "Shame, you're not a world-famous quidditch player."

"Shame that," he agreed, raising an eyebrow. There was something sly in his eyes. "What about you, though? Got a date for the ball yet?"

He frowned.

"You know, the Yule Ball? Snape's mentioned it yesterday? All the girls are going crazy about it?"

"Oh, that." The ball. Not something he'd given much thought. He didn't even remember it being mentioned.

"Not all the girls," Pansy commented. "Some are more dignified. Like us." She giggled girlishly, effectively destroying the credibility of her words. "Well, you'd never go with someone other than a Slytherin anyway. Right, Draco?" She was batting her eyelashes like some fool. Draco rolled his eyes. But right then his gaze flicked over to the Gryffindor table. He wondered who Potter was going to take. Surely, she'd never be caught dead asking a Slytherin… right? He shook his head. Where had that ridiculous thought come from?

He took a sip of his tea to distract himself. It was much better now. Sugar made everything better.

"I bet, she wouldn't get as much attention if she wasn't a champion," Blaise mused, following his eyes toward the Gryffindor table where a guy had tapped Potter's shoulder and was seemingly asking her something. "Or The Girl Who Lived," he added in a mocking tone.

"Who knows for how much longer," Pansy said, cackling madly.

"Aw, looks like it's not _his_ lucky day." Blaise said with a smirk, watching the guy who'd obviously been rejected trudge back to the Hufflepuff table. Draco grinned. What a pleasing sight it was to see other people get humiliated.

"Perhaps, _I_ should try my luck." Zabini wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, reaching for the last treacle tart on the plate between them. Draco was quicker. Weren't they Potter's favourite?

"Go ahead and try." He drawled. "Can't wait to see you make a fool of yourself."

Zabini chuckled. "No, reason to be jealous. I'll leave her to you, if you want."

Draco snorted. "Don't make me laugh."

But he didn't feel like laughing. Not at all. The thought of Zabini asking Potter to the ball made him feel angry in a way he usually only felt because of the Gryffindor herself. Jealous. Ha! Who did he think he was? It wasn't as if he fancied Potter. He was just… just… disgusted by the thought of a Slytherin sinking this low. Right. Even the thought of a Slytherin going out with a Gryffindor was appalling. That was the only logical explanation for it. Then why had he felt the same irrational anger when that Hufflepuff loser had approached her? There was nothing logical about that. Nothing logical at all.

…

It was no more logical to ignore his father's wishes and not ask Pansy to go to the ball. Or to ask Potter instead. Or for her to actually accept. And for the enemies to go to the Yule Ball together. But was she his enemy? Was she really? Enemies didn't look that pretty. And Potter did look pretty in her green dress robes. Or when she was smiling for a change. (Not glaring at him as usual.) It made a soft blush rise up in her cheeks and her eyes light up. Those green, green eyes. They were like an ocean. Hypnotizing him. Pulling him in until he almost fell into them. Her arms were wrapped around his neck as they danced and when their noses were almost touching, she said those words again. "What do you want?"

With his eyes he followed the movement of her lips like unspoken secrets were hiding in them. And then he knew the answer. It was so obvious. He should have seen it sooner!

There was nothing more that he wanted than to lean down and find out how her lips might feel when they were pressed against his…

…

He cursed his alarm charm. It always seemed to go off at the exact wrong moment. Just when he'd been about to find out what it was like to –

Draco's eyes flew open in shock. Why in Slytherin's name was he dreaming something like this? With a groan, he buried his face in his pillow and kicked his feet into the air.

Shit, shit, shit! Did that mean…? No. It meant nothing. It had just been a stupid dream. Nothing more. He didn't want to kiss Potter. He'd had a dream of him going to Madame Puddifoot's with Zabini once and he certainly didn't want to kiss _him_. A dream. Nothing but a dream. Sometimes people had strange dreams. It was completely normal. There was nothing wrong with it. With _him_. It was stupid. Ridiculous. By the end of the day he would have forgotten all about it and would never have to think about it again. Right. That sounded logical. He was much calmer now. A dream. Ha! A silly dream wasn't going to shake him. He was Draco Malfoy. It needed more than that to bring him to his knees.

…

Potions with the Gryffindors was nothing. He'd prepared himself for the sight of her. When he passed the girl, he sent her a slightly more vicious sneer than usual and stalked toward his usual table in the front. Ha! A dream. How foolish he'd been to let something laughable like that unnerve him.

What did unnerve him a bit was that he was out of billywig eggs. Neither Crabbe or Goyle or anyone close to his table had any left, so he had to get another two from the extra supply. At least he was already sitting in the front, so the distance was fairly short. Draco was just about to snag the last two billywig eggs, when someone beat him to it.

Angrily, he looked to the side, sneer already in place, prepared to fight tooth and nail over the ingredients, when he saw them again up close. The ocean eyes. Inviting him to get lost in them…

"Looks like I'm quicker than you. As always." Potter said smugly. "That's why you're never going to beat me at quidditch."

"I…" He was speechless. How dare she? "I was here first. Those are mine," he hissed, gaze focused on her hand. (He couldn't get lost in her fingers after all.)

Potter chuckled. "Well, you were too slow. Not my fault." She turned, not sparing him another minute. But before she could take more than one step, Draco reflexively grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

"I said, those are mine." His eyes were narrowed as he tried not to look at her directly. It was much harder than it should have been.

"Too bad for you, I'm not giving them back." Her glare was quite impressive. "Besides, you're supposedly good at this. Shouldn't you be able to make it work without the eggs?" She smiled sweetly at him. A fake smile obviously. But nevertheless… Better than a glare. And strangely inviting. The smile. Her mouth. Her lips. Her eyes. Her –

She spun around and left him standing there. Like a literal fool. Thinking of her pretty mouth. Wondering if it was as soft as it looked. Feeling his heart beat like it was trying to break free of his ribcage and sail right after her.

A dream. Ha ha. A dream shouldn't have such an effect on him. A dream shouldn't make him feel like this. A dream… it couldn't be more than that, could it? That was impossible. He'd never be that foolish. Never. There had to be a different explanation for it. Something plausible. Something that didn't mean… he had a crush on Haley sodding Potter.

…

Pansy was the solution. It didn't happen often but this time she might actually really be useful to him. They were the last people in the common room and she was about to doze off. Well, he had made sure to wait until everyone else had finally gone to bed to broach the topic. The downside was that the girl was half-asleep.

"Pansy."

Her eyes shot open at once. "Yes?"

Draco sighed, resting his interlocked fingers on the table. He'd never felt this stupid in his whole life. Not even when Potter had rejected his offer of friendship. Or when the know-it-all had slapped him in the face. Or when Moody had turned him into a ferret. This was officially a new low.

"Tell me…" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Is there someone… you'd like to go to the Yule Ball with?" Oh, the humiliation…

"What?" She repeated, staring at him wide-eyed.

"The ball." He repeated impatiently. "Is there someone you'd like to… go with?"

"Oh." She started to giggle. "_Yes_. I thought you'd never-"

"Why?" He interrupted her eagerly.

"Er… why what?"

_Why am I wasting my time with you?_ He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stay patient.

"_Why_ do you want to go to the ball with that guy?"

"Oh." Pansy bit her lips, looking to the side. "Well, he," she sent him a nervous glance. "He's _brilliant_. Nothing like the other boys. I…" She giggled, playing with the seam of her robes. "I've liked him for a very long time." _Liked_. The word almost made him shudder.

"When you see him… what do you feel?"

"I…" she gulped. "I just want to look at him and stay by his side forever and when he–" He leaned over to understand her better because she'd started to whisper. "when he's close to me, my heart beats so fast and I can't think and–"

"You want to kiss him?" He completed her sentence.

Pansy turned a fiery red. "Yes." She breathed, glancing at his mouth intently. Then she closed her eyes and leaned a bit closer to him. She raised up her chin, as if she was expecting him to kiss her. It would be easy. She was right there… And she _wanted_ him to kiss her. Her lips looked soft and pink. Not that different from Potter's…

Except… they did look different. Potter's lips were much more rounded and… fuller and… a completely different shade of pink. Compared to hers, Pansy's lips weren't inviting at all. They were just another ordinary part of her body. Potter's on the other hand… if this were her instead of Pansy… would he cross that line and lean down those tantalising few inches?

Shit, shit, shit. Why was he thinking of Potter's lips now? Even his heart started to beat harder, more urgently, all because he thought of –

Draco turned away. "I see." His voice sounded strangely breathless. He cleared his throat, trying to get a clear head again.

Pansy blinked at him in confusion as if he had woken her from a dream. "Draco?" she asked disappointedly.

There was one more question he needed to ask. "How do you… _feel,_" he rolled his eyes at the stupid word. "when you see him talk… or interact with other girls?"

The girl grabbed his arm suddenly, startling him with the unexpected move. "I hate it," she hissed. "If he ever went out with another girl, I'd make sure she dies a slow and painful death." She looked right into his eyes then, her grip on his arm almost painful. "He's supposed to be mine. And he will be. I'm not willing to share."

Was that… a declaration of some sort? In any case, her words shocked him. Not because he hadn't been aware of her crush on him. Their whole house knew about that.

No. What shocked him was how much he could _relate_. It was as if she was telling him about all the ways Potter was making _him_ feel. But that would mean… it would mean that… he… that he…

_…fancied_ her.

_Potter._

He'd gone and let that foolish girl get under his skin. How had that happened? No. The more important question was, how did he fix it? There were love potions. There had to be antidotes as well. Something that made this stop, before she could screw with his mind even more. The dreams had been bad enough. And now _this_?

Pansy was still there, seemingly trying to guess what he might be thinking. He could never let her know. He couldn't let anyone find out about this.

"Never speak a word to anyone of this," he hissed quietly, narrowing his eyes. A silent threat.

Pansy clamped her mouth shut and started to shake her head furiously. "Of course, I won't. I promise."

At least, she was still listening to him. She had always been loyal.

He gave her the hint of a smile. "Good." Gently, he removed her fingers from his arm and placed them on the seat beside her. Her brows furrowed and her lower lip started to wobble. Draco tried not to roll his eyes. For a pureblood, she was so undignified.

"Let's go to the ball together." He drawled. It _had_ been his father's wish, after all. And a little reward wouldn't hurt, right?

The girl squealed and tried to kill him with a hug. Well, at least if he was dead he didn't have to deal with his little Potter-problem any more. Actually, speaking of dying, the odds of Potter not making it through the rest of the tournament were incredibly high. How ironic. The event that had created said problem in the first place was also going to take care of it for him. He could only imagine what Potter's actual death would do to him, if her almost dying had almost driven him insane with guilt. And something else… Something much sweeter than guilt. And a lot more dangerous.

"_Dray_," Pansy drew out the word, giggling into his shoulder. "I'm so happy." She sighed, tightening her grip around him. "It's like one of my dreams has finally come true."

Draco chuckled. Oh, the irony. He certainly didn't wish any of _his_ recent dreams would come true. The dragon dreams… Only the thought made him shudder. He was cruel, yes. But he wasn't a monster. He didn't want to actually _kill_ someone. Her least of all.

_Her_.

Even if he _wanted_ to.

He didn't think he could hurt her ever again.

…

* * *

A/N: Here it is! The final part :) Thought this might distract you from the angst fest that was the last chapter of DOT. So, this has kind of been a prequel to Songs of Yesterday (or Knight In a Shining Helmet for Draco's POV). In case anyone is curious how Draco tries to get rid of his feelings and eventually comes to terms with them,... well I might be persuaded to write that. We'll see ;)


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